On the night before they sailed for France, long after she had gone to bed Ethel came out in her wrapper into the warm dark living-room.

There was something she had forgotten to do, and she wanted to get it off her mind.

She switched on the light by the doorway, and looked about her smiling, but with a little shiver, too.
The ghost was gone--or nearly so.

Already the room had been stripped bare.

Only Ethel's desk was left, and a chair or two and the long, heavy table with a lamp at either end.